


moment's silence

by shineonloki



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Come Inflation, Come as Lube, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, I feel like I'm leaving a tag out, M/M, Rough Sex, Somnophilia, Yeah this is probably the filthiest thing I've written, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineonloki/pseuds/shineonloki
Summary: It is inevitable that Thor falls into the sleep. Loki, appointed King in his absence, grows bored.--“They say you can still see and hear what transpires,” Loki said, bringing Thor’s hand up to skim his lips. He placed a kiss there, chaste and unassuming. Unlacing their fingers, Loki crowded over Thor’s sleeping form, leaning close to the shell of his ear.“But, can you feel?”





	moment's silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wistering](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistering/gifts).



> i am currently editing this! please ignore any mistakes for the time being. C: thank you.

_when the meaning is gone,_  
_there is clarity._  
_and the reason comes_  
_on the common tongue_  
_of you loving me._

 

Loki would have never admitted it in his youth, back when he had seriously considered ruining Thor’s coronation, but, his brother turned out to be a good king.

A great one even— if Loki was being honest.

He ruled fairly and just, the people of Asgard respected him, the people of Midgard thought him a hero. There had always been quips about Loki’s silver-tongue, but Thor was every bit as talented in talking his way out of problems. (That particular skill came later, after many years of learning from the best. Loki, himself.)

They knew it was going to happen; it was inevitable. But, Thor had prepared for the sleep— unlike his father before him, who had a knack for dropping into it in the most inopportune times.

His brother had planned carefully a regime for when it happened.

The first decree being, Loki was left in charge. Which, in his humble opinion, had been the wisest move of them all. Despite the hesitation and uncertainty from the court.

And, just as he had been wrong about Thor’s fit for the crown, he was also wrong about his desire for it. Yes, the power had been appealing, a chance to step into the sun and cast his own shadow. He just hadn’t expected it to be so tedious and numbing.

By the fourth week— barely a hairline in the span of an Aesir life— he was ready to shake Thor out his slumber.

It was much more fun to have free reign of whatever he so chose to do while whispering influences into Thor’s ear from the sideline. That way, he could keep one hand around independence, and the other around power.

It would go against his very nature not to cause a little chaos.

\--

“You know, there was a point in time when I would have killed you for this title,” Loki said to Thor’s sleeping form. He was shrouded in gold mist, glimmering, and hazing above him.

 _Protection_ — Loki ran a hand through it, dissolving it— a lousy one.

Thor, of course, said nothing.

“You can wake up now, I have decided I no longer want it.”

A silence, a sigh.

Loki slumped down beside Thor, arm propped on the edge of the gilded bed and head pillowed in the bend of his elbow. He stared at his brother, blinking, looking for any sign of waking and found none.

He looked eerily peaceful, the same kind of reverie a person brandished while they lay in a casket. But, Thor’s face still held life— his skin still soft, hair still shiny and golden. Loki took the time to really study him; the slope of his nose, the bow of his lip.

He was handsome in a way Loki had always envied. Even then, he looked like a king.

Without thinking, Loki reached out and touched his brother’s lips. They parted as a reflex and he ran his finger along the seam— slightly chapped, but it was a small imperfection.

He pulled his hand back, rubbed his fingers together where they were slick with spit.

“Your Majesty?”

Loki turned with no attempt to hide his annoyance. The guard didn’t flinch, quite used to the icy stare.

“You are needed in the throne room.”

“Of course,” Loki said, stiff and resigned. He picked up Gungnir, waved a hand and restored the golden aura, and turned to leave, only sparing a glance over his shoulder once.

\--

Loki found himself in Thor’s company more often.

It was quiet and peaceful, like his days spent in the libraries, but without the feeling of being alone. It was much easier to enjoy Thor’s company when he was sleeping, rather than filling the space with empty words and poor jokes.

He absolutely didn’t miss the low rumble of his brother’s voice as he teased playfully, or on the occasion, said something so heartfelt it gave Loki a flutter in his chest.

\--

Three weeks later, after a particularly draining day, Loki found himself once against lounging beside his brother as he slumbered away. This time, he warded the doors. There would be no intruders, no interruptions.

If Asgard was on fire, it would just have to burn.

He needed peace and he needed respite. No wonder the role of Allfather required the world’s most dramatic nap, he thought.

Loki brought with him books, sometimes commenting on the content to Thor. And, on the fourth visit when he made a particularly humorous jab at the recounting of the author’s mishap in Vanaheim and was met with nothing but silence, did Loki realize he missed his brother.

\--

There was something else that didn’t escape his notice, though he had done a good job of ignoring it.

Loki didn’t think on it at all, not until he heard two kitchen boys whispering in a corridor.

“He waits like a lovelorn maiden in there!”

A muffled, snickering laugh.

“What do you think he’s in there—”

Loki cleared his throat, strode across the hall with his hands behind his back and chin held high, making sure the heels of his boots clicked extra loud.

The boys blanched and scurried away, yet Loki didn’t feel triumphant.

\--

The comment stayed nuzzled in the back of his mind for days, and he purposely avoided visiting Thor.

He did, however, ask for frequent updates on his brother’s state— all came back the same.

“He still sleeps.”

Loki sat on the throne, Gungnir tapping on the ground idly. He wondered how his mother did it, how she survived bouts of her husband’s seemingly endless slumber.

There was a vivid memory of her, draped in a beautiful gown, knelt at Odin’s side, with her hands clasped on his.

Loki slammed the staff harder into the ground, the shrill, metallic noise echoing throughout the empty throne room.

He shouldn’t do that— he shouldn’t think of himself in his mother’s shoes. Because this situation was not the same. He was not a pining wife waiting for his husband. He was a King, waiting for his brother to wake.

That was it, that was all.

\--

“Wake up,” Loki commanded.

Thor lay there, golden and radiant, soundless, motionless. Loki knew that his words were being heard, and he did not take kindly to being ignored.

(He knew, of course, that was not the case. But, he was irritated and feeling childish.)

The longer he looked at Thor, the angrier he got. The sleep wasn’t supposed to last that long. He had just abandoned Loki there, to clean up his mess, to play pretend.

Because, no matter how long Loki sat on the throne, it was never really his.

Maybe that was the problem, maybe that was why he was so averse to the rule. Though, he’d argue he never really wanted the throne, only to be worthy of it. Odin had never deemed him worthy, but Thor had.

His dim, _trusting_ brother.

The only person he had left that believed in him had left him to a court of Asgardians who viewed him as a liar, a snake.

They wanted their king untainted by the hands of Loki. He knew the truth, he wasn’t blind to it.

He reached his hand out, smoothing it down Thor’s bearded cheek, along down his neck, his broad shoulders, his arm, his hand. Loki stilled, intertwined their fingers together. They slotted together perfectly.

Loki stared down where they were joined.

“They say you can still see and hear what transpires,” Loki said, bringing Thor’s hand up to skim his lips. He placed a kiss there, chaste and unassuming. Unlacing their fingers, Loki crowded over Thor’s sleeping form, leaning close to the shell of his ear.

“But, can you feel?”

There were many ways to test this theory, and certain ways less corrupt than the ideas swirling in his head. He dropped his hand down, trailing it slowly against Thor’s armored chest, lower and lower until his fingers danced at the edge of his breeches.

This wasn’t for him, this was an act of spite to the people of Asgard.

He held no desire in his heart for his brother. Thor, who slept so peacefully, so beautiful. Thor, who was always enamoring the people with his smile and charm while Loki dripped like oil in the shadows.

Thor, who trusted Loki with Gungnir and the throne.

Thor, who would place a reassuring hand on the back of his neck to tell Loki that he would be a great ruler in his absence.

Thor, who despite all Loki’s faults, loved him.

Loki slipped his fingers beneath the band, grazing against the coarse trail of hair leading down towards Thor’s soft cock. It was hot against his hands, warm and inviting—and Loki wondered about his brother’s reaction, had he been awake.

Would he recoil or welcome?

It didn’t matter much now, he supposed.

He could take what he wanted.

Loki gripped Thor tight in his hand, sighing at the weight of it in his palm. It didn’t take long for Thor to start responding to Loki’s touch, the flesh beneath his fingers hardening with each passing stroke.

And, Loki’s body responded to the attention as well. The sight of his hand moving beneath the tented fabric had him biting back a moan. When he realized that there was no one to hear him, no one to stop him, he let it out— low and guttural.

It wasn’t until Thor was hard and leaking that he allowed himself to clumsily pull himself out with his free hand, fisting his cock tantalizingly slow.

He wanted to draw it out as long as possible, bask in the first time he truly felt powerful.

How would he finish? He ripped Thor’s breeches past his hips, letting his thick, red cock slap against his stomach— precome dripping from the tip.

On Thor’s cock?

His eyes roamed upwards, to his brother’s sleeping, serene face. Completely unperturbed by the happenings in the waking realm.

On his face?

The image of Thor, painted with stripes of white, along his lips and cheeks, almost had Loki spilling into his hand. But, where was the fun in that?

Then, an idea. A filthy, cruel idea that he couldn’t cast out if he wanted to.

And, he didn’t want to, not at all.

Carefully, Loki climbed into the bed, nestling himself between Thor’s leg, placing a hand on each knee and spreading them wide. He looked down at the display before him, his brother sleeping, legs spread for him.

Loki closed his eyes, pressed his hips forward until the head of his cock pushed against the taut fabric of Thor’s pants—a barrier between what him and what he wanted.

He rolled his head back, pictured himself fucking into Thor, taking everything that he wanted and more, finishing inside him, filling him with his seed like a common whore.

With frantic, shaking hands, he pulled Thor’s breeches down to the ankles, maneuvering himself back between him. Everything was exposed now—his cock, heavy sack, tight hole.

It was his. It had always been his, hadn’t it? In the same way, Loki belonged to him, deep down.

Loki weaved a spell to leave his fingers slick, prodding them at the entrance. It was less of a courtesy to Thor, opening him up on his fingers, and more of a courtesy to himself. He could push himself in with an unforgiving force, but Loki knew that warm tightness would have him finishing before the opportunity to truly enjoy himself.

And, he _did_ enjoy watching his fingers disappear into Thor, only to reappear, stretching him further.

His body grew anxious in anticipation, breathing growing heavy and erratic as his fucked three fingers in and out.

He was stalling, he knew.

Loki gripped tight the base of his cock, squeezing and letting out a low hiss between his clenched teeth. He slipped his hand free, staring down at the wet, red stretched hole— the way it called to be filled. Then lined himself up, body shuddering as his sensitive head knocked against the ring of muscle, but he didn’t push in.

Hesitation.

Because, after this, there was no going back. There was no talking his way out of punishment. The rest could be forgiven, a slap on the wrist compared to the crime of fucking his King.

His brother.

It mattered not if Loki loved him—

Loki laughed, self-deprecating, at the absurd thought.

 _Love_.

He pushed in, brutal yet swift. A fire lit beneath his skin, threatening to burn him inside and out. He’d buried himself into many faceless men and women, but nothing— Loki choked back a sob, running his hands up the smooth flank of his brother’s thigh, motionless in sleep.

_His._

For the time being, at least.

Loki pulled back until his cock threatened to slip out, until he could see the flared tip of the head catching— then he slammed back home, rough and hard, biting back a cry.

After that, the dam was broken, he gripped Thor’s legs tight enough to leave bruising fingerprints. Cursed beneath his breath as he sought his pleasure though quickly timed thrusts, no need for finesse, and watched Thor’s own cock bounce against his stomach with the force of it.

“I wonder,” Loki groaned, not talking to anyone but himself, really. “If I can make you come on my cock alone.”

The idea thrilled him, to milk Thor while he slept with nothing but Loki rutting into him like an animal in heat. He knew he wouldn’t get the chance to find out, he was already edging close, could feel his release pulling, his hips stuttering.

 _Next time_ , his treacherous brain supplied, and he spilled, cock pulsing into the heat of his brother. He drove his hips further until he was flush against Thor—he didn’t want a single drop to leak out. The idea of the shame of what he’d done making a home inside Thor thrilled him.

In the end, Thor didn’t come at all. His erection already flagging, softening under the neglect without Loki’s hand to stimulate it. Less of a mess to clean up, so Loki left it, though the thought of getting it into his mouth was enticing.

Next time.

\--

Next time came sooner than later, the very next day. He left the throne room in a flurry of a green cape, Gungnir gripped tightly in his hand. When he told the guards that he was checking in on their sleeping king, they exchanged a look.

“Your Majesty, your brother has already been tended to by the healers—”

Loki stopped, tensed, and turned his head toward the hallway, where Thor lay asleep in the room at the end. Had they noticed? How thorough had the healers been?

“No more healers,” Loki said, an eerie calm. “I will take care of him from now on.”

“Aye,” they said in unison.

Loki could hear their lack of reverence.

\--

The days passed much the same. Loki completing the menial, dawdling tasks set before him in court. He would plaster a pleasant smile on his face, with no one knowing the thoughts behind his eyes.

The constant loop of memory, of him fucking into his sleeping brother, filling him up further and further, sometimes multiple times in one sitting. Memories of him stuffing his fingers in Thor’s abused hole to stop anything from leaking out.

Loki crossed his legs, hiding the awakening those thoughts gave.

He held Gungnir loose in his hand, stroking his fingers up and down.

He’d tested that theory too— whether or not Thor could come in his state. Much to his delight, he found he could, and in abundance.

Loki had watched with unabashed awe as Thor’s balls had drawn up tight and bent down to fasten his lips on the head just before he came into Loki’s waiting mouth. He’d lapped up every drop, cleaned his brother with his mouth, and then took what he wanted.

And, Loki had Thor any way that he wanted.

He had sat back on his knees, Thor’s legs spread and pushed to his chest as he pounded in with wet smacks of flesh.

He positioned Thor on his stomach, hiked his hips up so that he could spread the globes of his ass apart, licking in hungry, tasting himself along with Thor on his tongue.

He rolled into Thor’s loose and pliant body, sweet and tender. Loki had roamed his hands up his sides, cupped the back of his neck like Thor had so often done to him. There was no urgency, just the intimate push and pull of their bodies. Loki had bit back a cry of frustration— just once he wanted to feel Thor’s hands on him, wanted to feel as though Thor wanted him too.

That was the problem though, wasn’t it?

Like everything Loki cast, it was all an illusion.

The pleasure was beginning to give way to hurt— and leave it to Thor to not even let him have that. His gentle face, pillowed in silk, flawless in all its glory, mocking him for what he could never have.

For what he should never want in the first place.

“My King,” whimpered a servant, breaking him out of his daydream.

Loki snorted back a cruel laugh. That was an illusion too. _King_. There was only one king and he unknowingly lay full of his brother’s seed.

He looked to her—she was shaken, eyes wide and hands trembling where they wrung the hem of her apron. He rolled his wrist, eyebrows raised, urging her to get on with it.

“Your brother has woken from his slumber.”

\--

Of all the hours he spent fucking, he should have made time to concoct an escape plan. It was too late now, eyes of the sentry and servants on him, gauging his reaction. They didn’t trust him, but for imagined slights.

The truth was far worse than whatever their minds believed.

He stood in front of the door that he’d walked in and out of countless times without hesitation. The guard at his side stared straight forward, but Loki knew he sensed something was askew.

“Our King requested your presence alone.”

Loki winced, a quick stab at how quickly his title was stripped from him.

He faced forward, fingers on the handle, and sighed. There would surely be a lot more stripped from him in the coming moments. Perhaps he’d be strung up, flesh removed from bones. Or, his lips sewn shut—so that he might never let slip the horrors he committed to the King.

He opened the door.

Thor stood at the edge of the bed, awake and alive. Loki took a step further in, cautious, leaving the door wide and open like he hadn’t for months.

“Brother,” Thor growled, a darkness in his eyes. “Shut the door.”

Loki put on his best smile, the stretched grin oozed insincerity.

“I’d really rather not.”

Thor rid himself of his shirt, dropping the loose tunic to the floor. Loki’s mouth went dry. The faint bruises left from his teeth littered collarbone and neck. Irrefutable proof— Loki knew that a little lower, beneath his trousers, was evidence even more damning. Even now, he could see it in the slight pooch of his brother’s belly.

Thor stared at him, it made his skin crawl. His hands found the laces of his breeches, eyes never breaking contact, he began to unlace them.

In a low voice, “Loki, _shut the door_.”

Loki obeyed.

“Come here.”

This Loki did not do so willingly.

But, Thor was shoving down his pants, that cock Loki had grown so accustomed to bobbing out, already hard. Loki found his feet moving forward, involuntarily, as if he had any power to yield to Thor’s commands.

When he was close enough, Thor reached out and roughly snatched at a golden, curved horn atop his head. Loki jerked at the force of it.

“What—”

“Do you think I do not know?” Thor seethed.

Loki adverted his eyes, more fear than shame welling inside him. Still, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he stubbornly forbid them to spill.

“Even now, your transgressions are leaking down my leg.”

Oh, that Loki couldn’t resist.

He looked down, only barely catching a glimpse of watery white trickling along golden skin before he was turned and shoved rough onto the soft bed. He met the mattress with a grunt, a weight pressing down on between his shoulder blades keeping him pinned.

“I knew everything you were doing,” Thor growled, “I could see it all.”

There was an unforgiving hand at his waist, ripping and snapping at his pants, pulling them down with no care for whether they tore.

“I could _hear_ you.”

Loki gasped as Thor palmed at his ass, spreading him without mercy. Something wet prodded at him, and Loki’s face twisted in confusion. Thor lacked the magic to produce a slick. He turned his head, craning his neck to see behind him, just in time to see Thor reach behind himself, fingers coming back wet and glistening.

“Fuck,” Loki dropped his head back down. His cock was already hard between his legs. Shamefully, he knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this. But, Thor, slicking himself up with the spend leaking from his hole was too much.

Loki rut forward, rubbing his aching erection against the mattress, searching out a friction of any sort. Thor grabbed at his hips, pulled him up, denying him the simple pleasure.

“I could _feel_ you,” his brother growled. “Now, I’ll make sure that you feel me.”

Two fingers pushed into him, stretching, stinging, burning. Loki backed into it, wanting more. He wanted to hurt, needed to hurt by Thor’s hands, by his fingers, by his cock.

It turned out the fingers were for show, leaving him empty quicker than they filled him, only to be replaced by the hot, thick length of Thor pushing slowly in. No time for respite, no tender care—just a brutal push in until he was fully seated.

Loki gave a low cry, pressed his face into the mattress. He felt full, split open, burning with pain and pleasure. Thor reached down, grabbing at the horns of his helm and pulling back, forcing Loki’s neck to bend with it, his pants no longer muffled by the sheets.

His back arched, pushed back to spear himself.

“Come on, _brother_ ,” Loki growled, hot and filthy. “Fuck me.”

Thor wasted no time. The energy he accumulated in his great sleep overflowed in abundance with each hard thrust of his hip.

And, Loki cried for it.

Because this was where he belonged, underneath his brother, his King, begging to be split open. Perhaps Thor thought this as punishment—Loki laughed, and his head was pulled back even more for it, the line of his throat so taut all he could manage was a mangled sound.

There were tears stinging at his eyes, he blinked them back, but couldn’t stop them from falling. He attempted to snake a hand down beneath him, he was throbbing, painfully hard.

All he needed was a few sloppy tugs and—

Thor batted his hand away, growled something unintelligible. Loki nearly sobbed.

“Do you know the torture?”

Thor slammed home, hitting that sweet spot buried inside him, the one that made him cry out and bit down hard on the sleeve of his tunic.

That was it, wasn’t it? Torture— to have Loki touch him, fuck him.

“To finally have you the way I wanted, but not be able to do _anything_ about it.”

 _Oh_.

Loki attempted to turn his head, to shake his helmet free from his brother’s strong grip. Thor let loose of the horns, only to press down on Loki’s back with his entire weight, burying his nose into the crook of his neck.

“You going to come for me?” Thor asked, rough and low into his ear, breath ghosting along the side of his face as his frantic thrusts melted into smooth rolls of his hips.

It was tender, sweet, and it broke the final barrier, his face wet with tears.

Thor reached around to take hold of his cock, biting down on the tender skin at his neck. Loki cried out, spilling before the second stroke, hot and messy over Thor’s knuckles and ruining the sheets of the royal bed.

He raised his fingers, coated in spend, to Loki’s mouth—who parted his lips to allow them to slide inside. The first finger wasn’t even past the knuckle when he felt Thor’s hips jerk, press into him, pumping his release with shallow thrusts.

Loki wondered what it might be like to be filled by Thor, like he had done to him. To be so full the evidence was visible.

There was something in the way Thor ran his hands down Loki’s sore thighs, kissed the back of his neck, hummed contently into the skin there, that made Loki think perhaps they’d get a chance to find out.

“It was reckless, what you did,” Thor whispered.

“It won’t happen again,” Loki spat out.

A lie, probably. Especially if the end result was Thor fucking him that good.

Thor slipped out, and Loki whined, turning his tired body around to lay on his back. Thor looked animalistic above him—naked, muscled chest heaving, cock softening between his legs, slick and shiny, his stomach still full.

“No, brother, I am counting on it.”

Loki’s face split into a feral grin, sharp and full of teeth. Thor returned it in full.

 _and it's_ easy _done,_  
_our little remedy._  
_and the reason comes_  
_on the common tongue_  
_of you loving me_


End file.
